


Army Coats and Broken Couches

by aceofneverland



Series: rift & vortex one shots [3]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Season 2, character deaths mentioned, ianto wearing the coat, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27442738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofneverland/pseuds/aceofneverland
Summary: after losing Toshiko and Owen, it's all hands on deck at torchwood three.   Ianto, Jack, and Gwen are running everywhere trying to fill in the gaps left by their two lost members.  Ianto's on hour twenty nine, trying to get this case done.  but his eyes are growing heavy now.** can be read on it's own!
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: rift & vortex one shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004661
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Army Coats and Broken Couches

**Author's Note:**

> i place this post season 2 of torchwood but right before Stolen Earth & Journey's End of doctor who.

His feet were going to fall off, that was for sure. He thought after working at Torchwood for five years now he'd be used to it. Sure, back at One they always had more staff,, but Yvonna always had a million things to do. It was always _fetch this Ianto_ , and _be a doll and do this_. 

Then again, it was hour what? Ianto quickly shook back his shirt sleeve, jacket abandoned a while ago now, to get a glimpse at his watch. Hour twenty nine. He wasn't sure they were going to get a break. Torchwood Three had been scraping by before, but now without ... now that it was just three of them, it never stopped.

The rift never gave them a break to begin with, but lately it's been acting up more than normal. It worried Ianto, having only seen this happen right before something bad happened. Leading up to Saxon's first contact (though Jack assured the team that what they remembered was not the worst of it), Gray and John Hart coming back through and ruining it all. 

Ianto knew there was a file of names and records for potential new members. He'd personally ensured that Martha's name was in there (though neither he nor Jack thought they could get her away from UNIT). There were others too. UNIT officers, local pd, MI5, doctors, even some names from the various organizations from teh states. But the file had barely been touched. Even as they pulled twelve hour days, on a lucky day, it was still too fresh. The sting of losing half their team. 

Tosh's programs still ran, dinging or crashing. Half-finished and a chunk of them that Ianto didn't even want to know what they did. He was familiar with the Rift predictor and the timelock. The translation program Tosh had been trying to put together. And Ianto wasn't awful at tech. Tosh had taught him a thing or two on navigating computers. But there were things she had that he wasn't even sure if they could shut down without things falling apart.

He kept finding tools in random places over the autopsy bay, shoved in places that no doctor but Owen would put them in. He found the stack of therapist business cards he'd kept passing out to Owen as a gag one day and had nearly broken down right then and there. Not to mention the alien medical tools that were still lying on Owen's desk.

He understood why the new recruit file was left untouched. He knew why even Gwen hadn't pushed Jack about it, despite the fact that she loved to push him about everything. He knew why he was willing to push onto hour thirty rather than talk about who they were bringing in to replace their family. 

He tried and failed to hold back a yawn. His fingers slowed over the keyboard where he was trying to track the runaway Tyrantium that had been evading them for the past day. He kept getting a lead only for the Tyrantium to pass through a wall and Ianto lost him again. Gwen was off - Ianto wasn't actually sure when she left or where she left too. Questioning witnesses? Trying to comfort victims? 

No no. There'd been a rift spike. A tech drop. That's right. Small enough that she went off on her own right after Jack and Ianto had gotten back from scaring a Weevil down to the sewers. Actually scaring a Weevil. Ianto suspected that they were both too tired and too anxious about rift spikes to do much else. 

Ianto was so tired. So, so tired. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so tired. When Bilis attacked and time was fracturing? When Jack was gone for four months? Ghost shifts at One? 

He groaned, throwing on a facial recognition software to go through the CCTV footage. Again. He clicked start, and then his feet started moving on his own. He didn't even fully process that he was moving until he was sinking down into the battered couch.

One of the springs dug into his ass. Maybe he could talk Jack into letting him buy a new one. Least they could do when they were running on empty. Stupid aliens. Stupid rift. Stupid bloody John Hart and Grey. If he ever saw John Hart again...

He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He'd meant to just rest his feet until the facial recognition software gave him something. But some unknown time later he was blinking his eyes open to a darkened hub. The lights had been brought down to night mood, running on the bare minimum with a soft hum echoing through the hub. He wasn't cold though, as he expected to be. Long nights in the hub had taught him that night mode meant cold - no matter what even Tosh tried to do to the system. 

As he shifted to sit up, a heavy fabric slipped off his shoulders, pooling around his waist. Jack's coat. A soft smile formed on his lips as he looked down at the old army coat. Heavy. Warm. Well-loved. Not his first. Oh no, Ianto had connections on where to get spare ones in case the coat because irreparable. But this one was well-loved and worn all the same. It smelt of Jack - of home and safety.

"I didn't want to wake you, though the bunker would have been a better place to sleep."

He glanced up at where Jack stood in his office, leaning against the door frame. Ianto's heart still gave a stutter. Still filled with warmth and threatened to burst from his chest. Jack was beautiful, truly. But it was more. Aliens, strangers, friends, they could look at Jack and see the body. The cocky grin, the strong arms and legs. His thighs - Ianto had spent _plenty_ of time worshipping those thighs.

But that wasn't what he saw now. No. Ianto looked up at him, still blinking sleep from his eyes, and he saw **home**. He saw warmth and hope. An anchor to help him get through the losses - to help _each other_ get through the losses. He saw three words he was too scared to say aloud. 

He stood up, shifted to keep the coat around his shoulders. Heavy. Comforting. "I hadn't meant to all asleep. Facial rec is tracking the Tyrantium."

Jack moved towards him, and Ianto helped to close the distance. As soon as he was close enough, Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto's waist and pulled him closer. Ianto felt the ghost of lips on his forehead and his eyes fluttered closed.

"The program is still running. I already sent Gwen home to get a few hours of sleep. You are going to go down to the bunker and get some as well." 

Jack's words held no weight, no order. Just concern. Care. It made Ianto want to cry at the tenderness. This side of Jack that was _his_ to see, to embrace.

"Will you get some too?" Ianto asked.

Jack's hand cupped Ianto's cheek and he leaned into it. His eyes remained closed as Jack pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.

"I just need to check a few things, then I'll be down."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

**Author's Note:**

> for anyone waiting for a part 2 to my The Rift and The Vortex, it will likely be coming soon! y'all's excitement for it made me want to write it.


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